What's at Stake
by Pleurez Mes Yeux
Summary: A little one-shot in the aftermath of the puzzle being smashed.


**So, this is my first attempt at a Yu-Gi-Oh fic. I recently started reaching the series. (Or binge-watching while studying for finals, because I can't study in silence). Anyway, this is just my own take on what happened to Yami when the puzzle was smashed and what the aftermath might have been. It's not really intended as a puzzle-shipping thing, but I guess you could read it that way.**

**Reviews appreciated.**

"Yami?"

Silence.

"Yami?" A little louder.

Silence.

Yugi's brow furrowed. He hadn't heard a word from the spirit of the puzzle since the millennium item had almost been lost in the fire. He knew he was there, but his presence was diminished, almost nonexistent.

Cautiously, he ventured into the confines of the puzzle.

The door of his other half's soul room was slightly ajar. He pushed it open, eyes widening in shock. The strong, confident protector who'd always come to save him huddled in the corner of the room, knees pulled to his chest and his arms wrapped tightly around himself. His entire body trembled and his eyes were distant. Dead.

"Yami!"

At the sound of the alarmed cry, the spirit lifted his head, setting unfocused, crimson eyes on Yugi. There was no light of recognition. Just a faint confusion tinged with fear.

"Cold." The rich baritone, usually so powerful, was a quiet rasp. "Shadows… C-cold."

The short duelist crouched before him, taking the spirit's hands in his own.

A sharp breath. Suddenly, the spirit latched onto him, flinging his arms around his light and clinging to him with such desperation that his grip almost hurt. "Warm."

Yugi was taken aback. He remained still for a moment before hesitantly returning the embrace. He could feel the tremors that racked the spirit's frame, the harshness of his breaths.

The smaller duelist shifted positions, gathering the ancient spirit onto his lap. With each movement, the spirit's hold on him grew tighter. "Don't let go. Please." And he didn't, holding his other half in silence until he felt the trembling subside. The only words spoken were occasional murmurs of, "Light."

He tilted the spirit's chin, pained to still see a terrible brokenness in his eyes. "What happened?"

Silence.

"Yami, please. Tell me what happened. I want to help."

"Shadows," he rasped. "The shadows came… They c-came back." His voice rose in pitch to a frantic plea. "Don't… Don't let them t-take me."

He looked around the room, biting his lower lip. "What shadows? There's no one here."

The spirit shook his head. "N-no. The puzzle… It b-broke."

The boy sucked in a harsh breath. It never crossed his mind that the spirit would have even been aware when the puzzle was smashed. There had been too many things going on. He'd been too concerned with finding the pieces and getting out to give much thought to the state of his protector, and even if he had he would've assumed he'd simply gone dormant, as if in a deep sleep.

"It was like…" The spirit closed his eyes, drawing in a deep breath. "It was like before." Sensing there was more, Yugi just waited. "Nothing but dark and shadows. And… And cold. So cold it h-hurt. For so long."

Yugi flinched. He remembered his grandpa telling him the puzzle had been found in a tomb that was thousands of years old. To be alone in blackness for so long… It was no wonder the spirit had been insane when he'd first come out. He breathed, "Oh, Yami…" He'd thought he'd been lonely when he hadn't had friends at school.

"And then I was free… There was l-light and w-warmth. And it was gone. All gone." The cold had seized him again, weighing down his limbs and immobilizing him as if it were a physical chain. And the shadows swirled around. Choking him. Blinding him. Gnawing away at all his memories of the light.

The tremors returned.

"We'll find who did this," the light promised. "We'll find them and make sure it never happens again."

However, far from comforting the spirit, Yugi's resolution seemed to have disturbed him. "I'm sorry. I… I should not have burdened you." He moved to withdraw, entire body growing rigid at the thought of breaking the contact. But Yugi refused to let go.

"Don't apologize."

"But—"

"No." The firmness of the boy's tone ended any further arguments before they were begun. "I know what you're going to say and it's not true. We're a team."

Silence.

"You've always been there to protect me. Let me do the same for you."

He shouldn't have given in so easily. He was a slave—a creature who existed to serve and protect the master of the puzzle. He had no right to burden the boy. No right to take anything from him.

But captivity in the puzzle… The shadows resuming mastery of him in Yugi's absence. It had shaken him such that he couldn't bring himself to deny the comfort being offered so readily. And so he leaned on the smaller boy's shoulder, feeling the warmth seeping through his flesh, warming his bones.

"We're a team."

"Kind master," the spirit breathed.

Yugi drew back as if he'd been struck. "No." He leaned back a little so he could more easily look the spirit in the eyes. "Aibou."

The spirit's eyes darkened with uncertainty. "Aibou," he questioned, not comprehending.

"Aibou," Yugi repeated resolutely. "It's what you've always called me."

Suddenly, his crimson eyes were alert again, as if a fog had been lifted. "Aibou." This time, it was a statement rather than a question. The memories that the shadows had eaten away at and obscured slowly came trickling back.

Yugi breathed a sigh of relief as the spirit finally seemed to recognize him.

"I was so afraid," he confessed. He almost wished he didn't remember. Faces of friends appearing before his eyes. But then he found he couldn't recall their names. And then their voices were gone. Slowly, they slipped further and further into darkness until all that remained of them in his mind was a great, gaping hole. It was so, painfully empty, but he couldn't even recall what had once been there to fill it.

"Will you tell me about them?"

"Huh?"

The spirit looked away, ashamed. While Yugi had returned, his memories of the others were foggy at best. He remembered how much they'd meant to him, but little else. It frustrated him how easily they'd been taken away.

Then understanding dawned on the younger boy's features. Without further prompting, he launched into a monologue about everyone. It was disjointed and many of the stories were trivial. But it was exactly what Yami needed.

He slumped against his other half as the faces returned. Joey. Tristan. Tea. Mokuba. Kaiba.

For the first time, he realized exactly how much he had to lose.


End file.
